


Somewhere Only We Know

by RazormusPrime



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazormusPrime/pseuds/RazormusPrime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's winter and Bog is restless at home, suffering insomnia due to his instincts clashing between hibernating and migrating south. To make matters worse Bog and Marianne didn't exactly part ways on good terms. Sleep deprived and stressed out, Bog goes out and runs into Sunny who decides to offer some well needed advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note:**

> A Long Live the King one shot taking place later in story based off the cover of "Somewhere Only We Know" by Max Schneider and Elizabeth Gillies
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fR6zH67IJ68
> 
> Thank you Writedreamlie for beta reading and Dancesonmoonlight for inspiring Sunny's father's job as a glazier! You guys are awesome!
> 
> This was fun to make and will later be a part of the main fic in the future I just really wanted to write this thing now so enjoy! The fic will be using lyrics from the song because why not, away have fun!

Bog tossed and turned in his bed beneath the pile of leaves covering him from head to toe. He gritted his teeth, unable to drift off into a much needed sleep. Bog turned towards Marianne’s side of the bed, reaching out only to tense when he realized his mistake. He cursed softly under his breath; he shouldn’t have forgotten she was gone. 

He turned away briskly, curling up tighter in the pile of leaves, gritting his teeth. How long had it been since the migration started? A few days ago? Weeks? Months? It was hard for him to remember exactly. The days blurred easily together in his restless slumber. 

Either way, it didn’t change how they had left things. 

Groaning softly, Bog stood up, knowing he would not be able to slip back to sleep with his thoughts tormenting him like this. He stretched, his joints cracking from being inactive for so long. With one last jerk of his neck, Bog sighed hearing a satisfying pop before he walked over to the window. 

In a single motion, he pushed the windows open, breathing in sharply as the frigid air rushed past him. It took a moment for him to adjust, and he took in another shaky breath, the cold aggravating his throat. Down below, freshly fallen snow covered the ground. Bog faintly recalled hearing a storm pass by that night. 

Taking one last look, Bog picked up his staff before leaping into the air and out the window. He flew through the forest without a destination in mind. He just needed to do something, anything that would help lessen the ache in his head. 

After a while Bog came to a stop, landing on some briar thorns branches, mindful of the thorns. Ice covered the branches; he tapped the end of his staff lightly against the ice, cracking the surface.

He breathed out heavily, trying to catch his breath from the flight. Breathing felt like ice daggers in his lungs but some of the pain had dulled now. His head felt much clearer. 

Glancing around him, Bog took everything in. The snow on the ground was untouched, giving the forest a bit of a dreamlike affect. Nearby, there was a small creek frozen over and reflecting the clear sky above. Bog hopped off the branch and glided down to the creek, stepping onto the glassy surface easily. He glanced briefly at his own reflection before gliding lazily across the ice, and an old song came to mind. 

_“I walked across an empty land, I knew the pathway like the back of my hand…”_ Bog sang softly as he hopped off the ice, nearing the edge of the creek. _“I felt the earth beneath my feet… Sat by the river and it made me complete.”_

Sighing softly, Bog sat by the water’s edge, keeping his wings raised to keep them off the snow. He lazily traced shapes into the ice with his claw as he sang. “Oh simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting tired and I need someone to rely on…”

“Now that sounds like a guy with a broken heart if I ever heard one,” a voice beside him spoke up.

Bog nearly jumped out of his skin. “Sunny!”

“That’s me.” Sunny snickered at Bog’s reaction. 

“How long have you been there?!” Bog asked, fluttering his wings to stand.

“Not long, really. I heard depressing singing and followed that.” Sunny shrugged, rubbing his hands to get some feeling back. “Saw you ice skating. Nice, and without skates too.”

Bog studied Sunny for a moment. He was accustomed to seeing Sunny is his usual burlap overalls. Instead, the small elf was covered in several layers of feathers and leaves sewn together into a coat. A moss scarf was tied around his neck, and pieces of wood fashioned into snow shoes were strapped to his boots. 

Seeing Sunny all bundled up made Bog more aware of the cold, and he shivered a bit.

Sunny perked a bit and pulled off his scarf, offering it to Bog. “Here, take it.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“Oh just take the thing. I mean, really Bog? Why aren’t you bundled up? It’s freezing out here.” Sunny scolded him, and Bog couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he accepted it and wrapped it around his neck. 

“The cold doesn’t bother me very much if I’m not out for long. My exoskeleton works well to keep warmth in. I suppose I haven’t realized how much time has passed,” Bog replied. 

“Right, now answer me this. What are you doing up and about? Aren’t you supposed to be asleep like the other goblins for, like, three more months?” Sunny asked. 

“Hmm, genetics,” Bog replied with a weary smile. “My goblin blood makes me a bit more resilient to the cold and gives me the instinct to hibernate. Unfortunately, my fairy blood also gives me the instinct to migrate like any other fairy, so it’s made me restless.”

“Sounds terrible.” Sunny replied. 

“I’ve managed,” Bog shrugged. “Going out now and then to stretch my wings helps.” 

“And you flew all the way to the Elf village from the castle?” Sunny asked. “Kind of a long trip, isn’t it?” 

“…What?” Bog asked after a moment before glancing up at the briar thorns.

“Yeah, the village is just up the hill,” Sunny replied. 

“That makes no sense, the briar thorns aren’t supposed to grow this far out into the fields,” Bog muttered. 

“Yeah, I know. Crazy, right? They started to grow over a few weeks ago before the snow set in.” Sunny grinned. “A lot of us weren’t really sure what to make of them, really, but it’s not really bothering anyone.” 

“I have never seen this happen before. It’s… unsettling,” Bog replied, glancing up between the briar thorns and up the hill. He could just make out the roofs of a few of the cottages. 

“Some of the farmers and enchanters think the thorns might spread further into the fields. Some of them are like you and worry,” Sunny added before shrugging lightly. “Though I don’t really think it’s a bad thing. Probably just nature’s way of showing the two kingdoms are becoming one.”

“I suppose…” Bog said softly. 

Sunny perked a bit, noticing how tense Bog looked. “Hey, something bothering you?”

Bog said nothing, and Sunny sighed softly, “It’s about Marianne?”

Bog glanced away and remained silent. 

“Not to pry, but I know something happened between you two before she left on the migration. A fight by the looks of it,” Sunny added, rubbing the back of his head. “And now, here I find you singing depressing songs, moping around, and I can tell you one thing: you’re completely miserable.”

“Your deduction skills are astonishing.” Bog’s voice dripped of sarcasm before he looked away a bit more pained. “A fight is putting it lightly. She hates me, and has every reason to, and I have no idea how to fix things, especially when she’s not here.” Bog gritted his teeth a bit at his last words. 

Sunny looked up at Bog, surprised, not expecting Bog to open up like this. Not to mention this was the first time he’d even mentioned anything about the fight to him personally. Sunny honestly knew very little of what happened, just that Marianne was fairly upset and they hadn’t patched things up before she had left. 

“Oh, well, you’re right. Marianne’s not be here, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to her,” Sunny offered. 

“You lost me…” Bog raised an eye brow. 

“Well, for a few years now whenever Dawn was away on the migration, I’d write to her. Sure, there wasn’t a way for me to actually send letters to her since she was so far away, but I hung onto everything I wrote and waited until she came home to show them to her,” Sunned explained, offering him a reassuring smile. “She’s always so happy to see all the letters, and we sit together to read through them, and through the ones she made.”

“Oh, I see,” Bog replied, rubbing his temple. 

“Yeah, I know sometimes you’re not much for words, so maybe writing could help you sort out what you want to say, maybe it’ll help things out?” Sunny added hopefully. He really hated to see Bog in this state. He just look dead inside. It probably didn’t help he looked sleep deprived. 

“I’ll… see what I can do…” Bog replied after a moment, proving Sunny’s point. 

“Well, if you want I can help you get started, maybe?” Sunny offered. One look at Bog, and he just knew he needed all the help in the world. 

“I would appreciate it, actually,” Bog replied. 

“Great! Now, we should probably get out of the cold,” Sunny added before turning back to head up the hill, motioning for Bog to follow. 

…

Bog twitched a bit, pulling his knees up in an attempt to get comfortable in the seat, clearly designed for an elf. He curled his wings around him, trying to make himself as small as possible. He didn’t want to break anything else down. 

Sunny’s father, Isaac, hummed quietly to himself as he swept up broken pieces of glass from what used to look like a vase. 

Bog avoided looking at anything, half convinced if he so much as glanced at anything it would break in this tiny house. 

Sunny tapped his hands together, looking up at Bog occasionally. It wasn’t hard to see how uncomfortable the taller goblin was. 

“Um, you know you don’t have to sit, I mean, I could get you a cushion or something or—” Sunny stuttered, trying to figure out a way to help, but Bog simply stood up without a word. 

Though, he underestimated the height of the ceiling and hit is head, shaking the house a bit. He groaned before scooting the small chair aside, and sat on the ground without another word. Isaac and Sunny watched him for a moment before thinking it would be best not to question it. 

Sunny winced and tapped his fingers together. “Or you could do that. I invite you over and I completely forgot how tall you are... I’m so sorry.”

Bog merely grunted, crossing his legs to try to get comfortable as Sunny’s mother, Willow, came to the table, carrying a tray of tea and pastries.

“I’m still amazed you managed to get through that door with your wings.” Isaac chuckled, sweeping up the rest of the glass into a cloth before moving to join them at the table. 

Willow laughed softly as she served the tea, setting a cup down for Bog. “Dawn and Marianne still have to duck their heads when they come visit.” 

“I’m sorry about the vase…” Bog awkwardly muttered, though he raised an eyebrow when he noticed Isaac placing the cloth carrying the broken pieces of glass on the table. 

Isaac said nothing as the pieces of glass levitated between his hands, the broken edges becoming molten hot as he easily reassembled the vase as if it had never been broken. Isaac grinned at Bog before Willow slapped his shoulder lightly.

“Isaac, how many times do I have to tell you? No forging at the table!” Willow snapped, shaking her head as she offered him a cup; Isaac merely shrugged.

“I wanted to get it fixed while the Bog King was here so he wouldn’t feel bad about knocking it over.” Isaac raised his hands up in defense. Willow gave him a look before serving Sunny a cup of tea. 

“I’m impressed…” Bog replied, looking down at the glass vase. It showed no signs of cracks or seems at all. Willow picked up the vase, returning it to its former place in the house before returning to serve the tea. 

“Oh, my fire magic isn’t all that special. Nothing like the stories I hear about more powerful sorcerers having. It’s just enough to help with my life work.” Isaac shrugged before motioning over to a couple dozen of glass figurines and sculptures throughout the room. 

“I believe you don’t give yourself enough credit, Isaac,” Bog replied, inspecting a few of his works. “The magic you and Sunny possess may not be that powerful, but it has the ability to create. That’s something to be proud of.”

“Well thank you,” Isaac replied while he and Sunny offered him a smile. 

“Faob still has that little fish trinket you made for him. When he came to visit for that fishing trip.” Bog added, “Keeps it with him every day. Loves the textures you made on it for him.”

“Heh, I like that boy. Haven’t seen him recently. He’s sleeping along with the other goblins?” Isaac asked curiously, and Bog nodded. “And why aren’t you asleep?”

“Insomnia.” Bog shrugged, taking a sip of his tea, though he was careful with it, not wanting to break anything else in the small house. 

“So, to what do we owe the honor of a visit from the Bog King?” Willow asked, serving herself a cup of tea and sitting down beside Isaac. 

“Just Bog is fine, Willow.” Bog replied, offering her a weak smile before looking over to Sunny. “And Sunny invited me here for some much needed advice.” 

“Yeah, I’m helping him write a letter for Marianne. Like what I do for Dawn,” Sunny added, taking a sip from his drink.

“Oh, that is so precious.” Willow giggled and sighed happily. “Ah, young love.”

“Um, it’s more of an apology if anything else, unfortunately,” Bog muttered softly, staring at his tea. “We didn’t exactly part ways on good terms, and since I can’t speak to her now, I wish to gather my thoughts to be able to properly apologize to her.” 

“Alright, first thing you need to do, remember you’re always wrong,” Isaac replied, sitting up in his seat. 

Bog couldn’t help but laugh a little bitterly. 

“Oh, trust me. I know,” Bog said weakly.

“Okay, let’s get started then Bog.” Sunny said, handing Bog some paper and a pen big enough for him to write right. 

Bog took a deep breath, stared at the paper for a moment, and then started to write. As time passed, he would scrap drafts while Sunny and Willow gave him suggestions. The longer Bog wrote, the more he felt nothing was coming out right. 

Soon enough, crumbled up letters and drafts covered the floor and table. Sunny and Willow would occasionally pick up a few Bog would discard immediately, and would offer advice. Meanwhile, Isaac sat quietly at the table, playing around with some glass using his magic. 

“Isaac, really? Again? For the last time, I said no forging at the table. Are you trying to set this house on fire?” Willow groaned when one of the letters nearly caught on fire. “Please, need I remind you of the last time you set the table on fire? It’s bad enough with all this paper lying about.”

“I apologize for the mess,” Bog muttered, but Willow shook her head.

“No, no, Bog. It’s quite alright,” she replied with a smile before turning to glare at Isaac. 

“Just give me another second, I’m onto something. I can’t lose focus now. I can feel it, this one is going to be a good one,” Isaac muttered, keeping his attention on the molten glass floating between his hands.

Bog groaned softly, pinching the bridge of his nose and setting down his pen.

“Maybe we should take a break…” Sunny offered, setting down one of the drafts he was reading over. 

“This is pointless, nothing I’m writing feels right.” Bog sighed softly. 

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself Bog. A lot of what you’ve written is rather heartfelt,” Willow added, gently patting Bog’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out exactly what you want to tell Marianne.”

Bog looked away before standing, though he immediately forgot about the ceiling and hit his head again. He winced, rubbing his head before turning to the door. “I… need some air.”

Without another word, Bog stepped out of the cottage. 

Sunny grabbed his coat and followed after him. 

Bog groaned a bit as he stepped outside, stretching his back and wings as he stood to his full height. 

“Hey Bog, I’m sure it’s not the end of the world. You can do this,” Sunny spoke up, moving to stand in front of him.

“Can I?” Bog asked softly, a pained smile on his face. 

“Yes, you can. Maybe you just need to sort out your thoughts on your own for a bit,” Sunny suggested, and Bog raised an eyebrow. “It’s not like we know exactly what happened between you guys and we don’t want to pry either.”

“I appreciate that.” Bog sighed softly, closing his eyes. “You’re probably right. This is something I need to sort out. Thank you for all your help though. I don’t make a habit of talking about these sorts of things.”

“Your emotions?” Sunny asked, though he was joking a little.

“Something like that,” Bog replied with a light smile. “Normally, if I need to discuss something like this. I go to Faob first. Since he’s been asleep all winter, I haven’t had anyone to talk to.”

“Really?” Sunny asked, surprised.

Bog nodded. “You’re the only one around I can trust to speak about this so… thank you for listening. I’m glad you found me when you did by that creek,” Bog said softly, offering Sunny a small smile. 

“I had no idea. Really, I’m just so touched. And don’t forget,” Sunny hugged Bog’s leg, “you gotta friend in meeeeeeee!”

“By the spirits, Sunny,” Bog groaned loudly. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten sentimental. Shaking his head, he fluttered his wings, flying up higher than the house with Sunny still hanging onto his leg. “I will drop you.” 

“No, no! Don’t be like that, Bog!” Sunny yelped, clinging tightly to him for dear life. 

Bog smirked and landed them back on the ground. “Fine, I’ll spare you for now, but no more singing.”

“You’re one sadistic goblin,” Sunny grumbled and stepped back. 

Bog barked out a laugh. “That fall wouldn’t have killed you, plus the snow would have cushioned your fall.”

“It disturbs me that you would know that.” Sunny shuttered, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. 

Bog laughed softly before glancing over to the horizon, noticing the sun starting to set. “I should get going.”

“It wouldn’t be wise to fly back in the dark on your own,” Willow added as she and Isaac stepped outside to meet them. She smiled and handed Bog a small parcel. “Here’s some biscuits to take back home.” 

“Oh, thank you, Willow.” Bog smiled looking down at the family. “Thank you all for the company, and I hope the rest of the winter isn’t too harsh for you. I’m not sure if I’ll make another journey out of the castle before spring. The days tend to blur together.”

“You visit whenever you like, Bog.” Willow smiled, gently patting his hand. “You will always have a place at the table.”

“I appreciate it.” Bog smiled gently before turning to leave. “Until we meet again.”

“Wait just a second, Bog,” Isaac called out, walking up to Bog and setting a small wrapped box in his hand. “Just a little something I made for you to share with Marianne when she comes home. Good luck, and I hope you two can work things out.”

Bog looked at him surprised before looking to Willow and Sunny. She offered him a smile, and Sunny gave him a thumbs up. Bog smiled at the small family and nodded, thanking them again before taking off and heading towards the Dark Forest. 

…

A crumbled up paper made its way into the fire place, though many of them never made it that far and just laid scattered all over the floor of the bedroom. Bog groaned, rubbing his eyes. They ached from both exhaustion and frustration. 

He had no idea how long he had been at it, trying to write at least one letter. Maybe a day? Two? Or could have it been weeks since he’d come back from Sunny’s place? Honestly, Bog took back everything he’d said about spring being his least favorite season.

“I hate this time of year…” Bog gritted through his teeth. It was the time of year he felt the most unclear, the most conflicted if he wasn’t able to sleep or move around. 

If it were up to him, he would be outside, trying to burn off some steam, but the howling wind and the beat of hail against the walls of the castle was a constant reminder it wasn’t an option. Instead, here he was trying to fill time by attempting to write one letter.

Really, it was so simple. Just tell her. Apologize. 

Apparently, it was much more difficult than he thought. Everything he tried to write felt like an excuse. 

Why was it this difficult to say what he wanted to?

Bog groaned again, thumping his head on the desk, causing papers to scatter everywhere. Not that it mattered much to him. He had little sanity left to care about the mess. 

Just then, a flash of green beneath one of the papers caught his attention. Reaching over, he picked it up and recognized the small leaf-wrapped box Isaac had given him. Bog briefly wondered why he hadn’t open the gift yet, before remembering Isaac had told him it was a gift for both him and Marianne. 

Still, Bog was curious, and with a delicate hand, he untied the string holding the box together. He opened it and let the contents slide onto the desk.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw two small glass figurines: one was an orange dragonfly and the other was a purple butterfly. The two figurines seemed to be linked together at the heads and seemed to be able to separate. Bog regarded the gift curiously. It was safe to assume it was supposed to be him and Marianne.

Bog couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. 

_“Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need someone to rely on…”_ Bog sang softly as he gently picked up the two figurines to get a better look. He gently placed a finger over the glass butterfly and his voice dropped barely above a whisper. _“So tell me when you're gonna let me in… I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin…”_

Bog sighed weakly, glancing over at the crumbled letters on the floor and at the sheets and drafts all over the desk. He needed to figure out a way to fix this. He couldn’t afford to lose Marianne over this mistake. He needed to make things right again. Somehow. Closing his eyes, Bog took a deep breath before placing the figurines back into their box. He didn’t want to lose these before he had a chance for Marianne to see them. He looked them over once more. 

It was strange, the way they were arranged felt oddly familiar, though Bog couldn’t quite place it. 

A part of him wondered why Isaac had crafted the two figurines to be able to link together at the heads and it was also odd that the butterfly was upside down.

Then it hit him. 

Memories flooded back to him instantly. A song, a very awkward song, meant to get both him and Marianne to admit their feelings for each other by very eager goblins, fairies, and elves. Their actual declaration of love and their first kiss.

Bog couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh. 

It just occurred to him the first joint task the people of the Dark Forest and the Light Fields had been to try to bring their King and Princess together. Bog suspected Isaac must have been there during the ordeal, otherwise how else would he have known such details to incorporate into the gift?

Bog shook his head, a small smile curled on his lips before he placed the figurines back in the box. He opened a drawer and set the box inside for safe keeping. He stared at the drawer for a moment before looking back to the paper and ink. 

He took a deep breath, pushing back his fatigue, and began to write. 

…

Marianne stepped silently toward the windows of her room. She took a breath as she opened them and then perked when she noticed some briar thorns growing along the edges of the window. She looked out towards the Light Fields, noticing the briar thorns had grown out a good deal throughout the land, far beyond the borders of the Dark Forest, as if it had a mind of its own. 

It was strange how much could change in just four months. 

She gripped the letter in her hand tightly and stole a glance towards the Dark Forest. Her sprites hovered around her, looking at the letter curiously, waiting for her to open it to see what Bog had wanted to say. 

“All right, I’ll open it, Rose,” Marianne sighed when her pink sprite started to get restless and pulled at the letter. “Viola, Emerald, move back, let me open this thing.” Marianne sighed as the other two sprites also started to grow impatient. 

Shaking her head, Marianne moved to sit on the window ledge, taking another deep breath before tearing open the envelope. She perked when she felt something heavy inside and slid out a small glass dragonfly alongside the letter. 

A weak smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and she ran a finger along the rough texture. Seemed like Bog had paid a visit to Sunny and his family over the winter. Marianne handed the glass dragonfly to Rose so the three sprites could take a look before she pulled the letter out. 

She took one last breath before opening it.

_Dear Marianne, my Tough girl,_

_Let me start by saying I am an idiot. I know that, pretty much since the moment I screwed this all up. I’ve tried too many times to figure out what to say to you and what to say to make this better. It isn’t easy, but I’ll try my best. You might notice this letter probably isn’t as long as you’d expect. I have two reasons. One, I’ve realized all that most of the things I need to tell you I need to tell you face to face, and two, I’m no good with words it would seem, written and when I speak. Hopefully I’ll be able to get across everything you need to know._

_No more lies, I promise. No more being kept in the dark, because you don’t deserve this, the pain I caused because of the secrets I’ve kept. And you’ve done so much for me, so much to change me, for the better I hope. And it just means so much to me to have you in my life, and I can’t bear to think what it would be like without you. Things can’t be left off how they were when we parted ways. We need to talk, and hopefully get through this. I know things have changed. Hopefully not all of this change is bad, like the Dark Forest and the Light Fields. You may have noticed as you were flying back, the kingdoms have changed. Briar thorns have grown into the Light Fields while flowers from the fields have started to bloom all over the Dark Forest. I know, it’s new, strange, and confusing to come home to. Though, I don’t think it’s necessarily bad. In a way it reminds me a little bit of you and me._

_Our love represents our two kingdoms coming together in ways they haven’t in a very long time; our kingdoms have never seen our kingdoms come together in such a way. Nothing like this has ever been seen, not even during my grandfather’s reign. So yes, it’s new, different, and will have its ups and downs, and will certainly take time getting used to, especially since there seem to be primroses not only blooming along the borders, but all throughout both kingdoms as if there were no border to begin with. I’m not looking forward to dealing with all those primroses, but that it’s just another thing that must be attended to. Again, I can’t begin to apologize for how much I have hurt you, you will need to hear this from me in person, so if you have a minute, why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know?_

_With all my heart,_

_Bog King_

Marianne took a deep breath, setting the letter down on her lap and trying to let it all sink in while her sprites all sighed dreamily at the letter. She had to admit, it was not what she had been expecting. She couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. All she knew for sure is that she needed to go see him.

…

Marianne approached an old willow tree deep in the Dark Forest. She looked around for any sign of Bog before noticing far down below laid the old ruins of the first goblin castle. Not much was left to indicate a castle had ever stood there. 

She scanned the willow tree again, noticing the branches had more leaves and flowers blooming than the last time she remembered it. She recognized a few types to be from the Light Fields. Apparently, not only did the thorns spread into the Light Fields, but more flowers were blooming in the Dark Forest. 

Then, a flash of light caught her attention and her heart fluttered. 

There he was, sitting where he said he would be with his back turned to her on the branch where he had given her that purple flower. Honestly, if it weren’t for the moonlight reflecting off his wings, Marianne would have thought Bog was just another branch. 

Marianne took a deep breath, unsure how to approach him. 

They hadn’t spoken for months. She had no idea what to expect or what he planned to say. She couldn’t help but feel scared. She was unsure what would come out from this conversation, but they had avoided it long enough. They needed to talk. 

Marianne flew closer, perking a bit when she heard quiet singing. It was that song. The one in the letter. It sounded sad, and she had never heard Bog sing this softly. It was unsettling, but also beautiful to listen to. Strangely enough, Marianne was familiar with the song. It was a song from the Light Fields, so it must have been something his father had taught him. 

She listened for another moment until Bog stopped singing. 

_“I came across a fallen tree. I felt the branches of it looking at me,”_ Marianne sang softly, picking up the song where he left off. Bog nearly fell off the branch, fluttering his wings quickly to adjust himself to face her. _“Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?”_ Marianne continued softly. 

Bog stared at her, mentally restraining himself from embracing her. He didn’t want to upset her with unwanted contact, but by the spirits he was so happy to see her. 

She was here, it was really her. Not a dream or a memory. 

She actually came. 

The two regarded each other for a moment. They each looked… different. Not in a bad way, no. At least to Bog, Marianne looked as beautiful as ever. 

Though, she seemed to have grown out her hair a bit, and it now reached her shoulders and hugged around her face. Her skin seemed a bit darker, and freckles covered her cheeks and shoulders. And her outfit: she wasn’t wearing her usual pink and green tunic. Instead, she wore a bright orange and yellow dress shirt made from the petals of a tropical lily. Even her eye shadow was a shade of yellow to match her appearance. It was strange, seeing her wearing something bright compared to her usual darker attire, yet she was beautiful nonetheless. 

The color radiating off of Marianne was a startling contrast to Bog’s own appearance. 

To Marianne, Bog looked a bit disheveled, the stubble on his chin seemed to have grown out. The fringe on his head looked a bit longer, pushed back in an attempt to look a bit neater. She could also see the bags under his eyes and the hollowness in his cheeks. Overall, Bog even looked even thinner than she thought possible, and malnourished. It was obvious he hadn’t been sleeping well at all, very likely not at all during the four months she was away. 

She couldn’t help but look away. She knew it was partly her fault he was in this state. They shouldn’t have left things off the way they did. It wasn’t fair to either of them. Her gaze dropped down to the small field of flowers below; it was the same type as the one Bog had given to her that fateful night during their moonlight flight. 

Honestly, with the full moon out now, it almost felt like they were back on that very night. Only this time, things were much different. The changes within the forest and the fields, the relations with their kingdoms, and their relationship now.

Thinking back, Marianne would never have fathomed all this change would have happened in such a short time. 

Taking a deep breath, Marianne took out the envelope and pulled out the small glass dragonfly, stroking a delicate finger over the bumpy texture. Bog watched her silently, his hand reaching for the parcel holding the glass butterfly. He took it out for Marianne to see. 

She regarded the butterfly for a moment, not looking up at Bog and sang softly, _“Oh simple thing, where have you gone?”_

_“I'm getting old and I need someone to rely on,”_ Bog added, singing softly as he dared to take a step closer to her. He was relieved when she didn’t move away. He reached out to take her hand but hesitated; after all the harm he had caused her, he thought didn’t deserve to touch her, and dropped his hand. 

_“And if you have a minute why don't we go talk about it somewhere only we know?”_ They both sang, turning to face each other, their voices growing softer and Bog closed his eyes. _“'Cause this could be the end of everything...”_

Then he felt her hand wrap around his and he opened his eyes to look down at her. Marianne watched him with amber colored eyes, stroking a thumb over his coarse skin to help stop his hands from shaking.

He hadn’t even realized they were shaking. 

Taking her free hand, Bog placed the glass butterfly beside the glass dragonfly and linked the two at their heads. A spark of recognition flashed in Marianne’s eyes, and she looked up at Bog surprised. He said nothing and gently wrapped her hand over the glass figurines before wrapping his hands over hers. 

They both took a deep breath, closing their eyes as they rested their heads against each others and sang the last line together: _“So why don't we go somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know…”_


End file.
